


Silver Bullet

by jturner36



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3741388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jturner36/pseuds/jturner36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek goes to the trailer to clean up, clear his head, and move forward. Set between episodes 22 and 23/24 of season 6</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver Bullet

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. References to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

"Run away, run away, run, run away"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Karev is a slob.  
  
Derek cursed as he scrubbed the toilet and wondered how Izzie could stand living here with her husband. Who was an absolute slob.  
  
He flushed and looked at the gleaming bowl with satisfaction, more satisfaction than any self-respecting man should have, really. But it was satisfying to Derek, because by cleaning, he was one step closer to selling the trailer and moving into their new home. In addition, as hard as it was for him to admit it to himself, it was a momentary reprieve to be far, far away from the hospital and the job he’d once coveted.  
  
So evidently, he’d rather be shirtless and sweaty and sore cleaning a toilet in an Airstream than be Chief of Surgery.  
  
Derek gathered all his cleaning supplies and put them in a bucket, which he placed on the deck. When he surveyed his work, a brief feeling of nostalgia ran through him. It seemed like so long ago, his moving to Seattle and settling for such a temporary dwelling. But at the time, he was certain it was the right thing to do. It gave him a place to withdraw into himself without having to interact with people, and time to ponder each new experience of his new life. Solitary as it was, the trailer and the land and the water were a buffer against the pain of betrayal, of loss, and of heartache.  
  
He flipped on the CD player, shucked his clothing, and took a shower. The water was cold, but it felt good.  
  


**

  
Meredith approached the trailer, which was almost vibrating from the loud music within. She couldn't make out the song until she opened the door.  
  


_"...they say the spell that he was under, the lightning and the thunder, knew that someone had to stop the ra-aa-AA-AAIN...."_

  
And there was her husband, standing in the tiny bathroom, dripping wet, adjusting the towel at his waist, and singing - very loudly.  
  
_"...run away - run away from the pay-eee-YAY-eee-yay-eee-YAY-eee-yay-yain!"_  
  
She turned down the volume and he whipped around, surprised and pleased to see her.  
  
"Hey!" He moved closer and leaned in for a kiss, being careful not to get her wet.  
  
"Hey yourself." Meredith grinned, amused at the Derek she'd found all alone in the woods.  
  
"I didn't expect you to come out here."  
  
"Evidently not. All that’s missing is your air guitar.” She laughed and kissed him again. “It was lonely at home. I mean, lonely without you. And I didn't want you to finish cleaning alone. But you did." Meredith nodded at his Bose. "Aerosmith, huh? Yours?"  
  
"Karev's. At least I assume it is. It was left in there."  
  
"Maybe it's Izzie's," she offered.  
  
"No, she cleared out all her stuff. There's not a trace left."  
  
Meredith nodded, and looked around. Save a garbage bag in the corner and a few odds and ends on the table, the trailer was immaculate. Meredith reached  over a set of cardboard salt and pepper shakers and picked up a box of perfume, examining the label. "Clive Christian's No.1." She turned to Derek, confused. "Not Izzie's?"  
  
Derek shook his head, putting on his best apologetic grin. "Addison's."  
  
"It's not even opened."  
  
"I know. She didn't...it was her Christmas present. Years ago. She was…angry with me."

  
**

  
_"So, now what? I'm supposed to open this present and pretend everything's okay, that we're okay? ‘Merry Christmas, Addison‘?"_  
  
Derek sighed, closing his eyes against her. "I didn't know...I wanted to get you something. I didn't want to piss you off."  
  
"Well, you should have thought of that before you told me that you fell in love with her."  
  
"I'm sorry. I'm trying, I told you because I wanted you to know what was going on with me. I can't just…snap my fingers and make it all go away."  
  
Addison pushed the wrapping paper aside and toyed with the tattered ribbon. "You fell in love. So, why?"  
  
He shook his head. "Addison, don't."  
  
She put her hands up, surrendering. "Derek, I just want to know what she's like, what you saw in her. Why. What‘s she like?"  
  
"She's an intern. You've worked with her. You know what she's like." He set his jaw in frustration. "She's a first year resident who has excellent instincts, is a quick study, is smart and competent. Satisfied?" Then, in three steps, he was at the door, his back to her, ready to escape.  
  
_"Damn it, Derek, you don‘t get to avoid the question, and you don’t get to run away! As a person. What she's like as a person!"_  
  
"Addison, you really don't want to do this," he insisted.  
  
Her bright blue eyes were black with fury. "I really do."  
  
Exasperated and spent, he turned to her and relented. "Okay," he said softly. Derek paused and looked down, taking his time, thinking. As though he needed even a moment to form the words that would accurately describe her. "She's warm and she's compassionate and caring. Funny. Feisty. And she's honest."  
  
"Honest." Addison nodded, swallowing hard." Ouch." She draped the ribbon over the box and glanced into the bedroom. "And she spent time here?  
  
“One night,” he replied tersely.  
  
“You slept with her, in this bed?"  
  
He glanced over her shoulder into the bedroom. "Yes."  
__  
Her lips pursed, she closed her eyes, taking a second. "What would you have given her?"  
  
"I'm sorry?" he asked, tilting his head in confusion, surprised at her question and how quiet she‘d become.  
  
"For Christmas," she clarified. "What would you have bought for her?"  
  
Derek exhaled, and as he placed his hand on the doorknob to walk outside, he tried hard not to sound wistful as his eyes became moist.  "I would have bought her a Dartmouth t-shirt."  
  


**

  
Meredith smiled warmly at him. "So, she didn't want your present."  
  
"No, she didn't want my present. I hurt her feelings." Derek ran his fingers through his wet hair and continued. "I knew I would, but I had to tell her. And she was hurt. She was very hurt," he repeated. "And rightfully so. It was...I was unkind."  
  
Meredith remained quiet, envisioning the scene.  
  
"I had cleared everything out, you know, before she moved in," he continued. "Everything from us. The sheets we slept on - I got new sheets. The loofah we used in the shower." He raised his eyebrows for emphasis. "The box of condoms."  
  
"That was good," she nodded. "That's good that you did that."  
  
"Yeah, but you were still here. One night, and you were everywhere and she knew it."  
  
"Well, now it's just the two of us. We're building our house, and this trailer...."  
  
“Yeah,” he interrupted, smiling. “We started here, and before you know it, we'll be a hundred yards away in our new house."  
  
"The trailer's history, Derek, and we'll be on our land in our home. Our future.” Meredith got up, walked to the bedroom and sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to her, inviting him to join her. He sank down into the mattress and sighed.  
  
“Are you okay?” she asked sweetly.  
  
He shook his head. “Not really.”  
  
“Is it anything I can help with?”  
  
“I don’t know what can help at this point,” he answered, defeated.  
  
She played with his hair, trying to soothe him. “You’re doing a good job, Derek. You are.”  
  
Derek laid back, taking her with him, cradling her in his arms and gazed at the trees above through the skylight. “Then why am I so dissatisfied?”  
  
“Everything‘s eating at you, Derek. You’re quiet. You seem sad.“ She rested against his shoulder and stroked his chest. “Maybe it‘s because the dream of the job and what you’d hoped for isn‘t the reality. You’re a world-class surgeon who has less time for surgery, and less time - I‘m not complaining, but you know, less time with me. Less time for the things you really care about.”  
  
He nodded, agreeing.  
  
Meredith turned on her side, and leaned on her elbow, smiling slyly at him. “Remember our first night in here together?"  
  
"I do." In just one night, she’d filled his home - his heart - and she’d saved him.  
  
“The first time we swam?“  
  
He chuckled in response. “Naked.”  
  
“And you remember our first shower in here?"  
  
"Mmm hmm. I remember everything." He kissed her softly. "Speaking of perfume - you don’t need perfume. I like the way you smell." Derek pulled her closer and kissed her again. "Your smell. You have a good smell," he whispered. Once he inhaled, there were no more words. Her shirt, her jeans, his towel, everything came off.  
  
He savored her, lingering over her. One strangled whimper; two. A tender sigh, and he sank into her.  
  
She wrapped her arms around him, spread her legs wide, and moaned at how completely he filled her and then he thrust deeply, causing an outcry of pleasure from her. He hovered above her, his blue eyes darkening as he watched her face. Her hips rocked into him, and he varied his tempo and depth until her arms pulled at him, craving intimacy.  
  
This. Her. She was beautiful. He was greedy. He was never satisfied. She satisfied him completely.  
  
His fingers were entangled in her hair, and as her body tightened against him, he whispered his demands: Move, keep moving, wrap your legs around me. You’re wet, you’re so wet, you’re beautiful, he said.  
  
His voice. The stubble on his face and his lips nipping her neck, the feel of him within her, and the grinding of his body against the swollen, sensitive knot, and finally the explosion was violent. Enthralled with her hoarse cries, with the rhythm and pulse of her body provoking him, he began to move faster, deeper still. He groaned when he climaxed and she held him, savoring the sound, the feel and the sweet, salty taste of him.  
  


**

  
"So Derek. That perfume. You can't just throw it away. It costs like...."  
  
"…over twenty-three hundred dollars."  
  
Meredith looked at the box again. "Well, you should send it to her."  
  
"I am not going to send it to her, Meredith," Derek laughed, shaking his head.  
  
"Derek, you should. I mean, what are you going to do with it?"  
  
"I don't know - I don't care," he continued as he finished getting dressed. "I can't send it to her, she knows when it's from, she left it here. It's not like I know anyone else who wears it."  
  
"Maybe I can give it to Cristina."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Or Lexie. Lexie would be better," she decided. "I don't care if she smells like Addison. With Cristina, I would care."  
  
"Okay, Lexie, then."  
  
Meredith tucked the box under her arm and walked through the doorway. "Will you miss it?" she asked.  
  
"The trailer? Yes and no," he answered, handling the bag of trash. "I'm ready to move on, finish the house and move in with you. Alone," he stressed as he stepped out onto the deck.  
  
Meredith nodded in agreement and turned for one last look. It was empty. It was finished.  
  
Derek looked, too. "You know what they call these things?"  
  
She squinted as the sun bounced off the aluminum and was reflected into her eyes. "What?"  
  
He grinned, his own eyes sparkling and mischievous. "Silver bullet." He chuckled softly and then, as though he were a little boy again playing cops and robbers in his backyard, his hand transformed into a gun and when the door clicked shut, he pulled the trigger. “Bang. We're done here.”  
  
He locked the door, and they walked away.


End file.
